


Whumptober 2020

by Blitzindite



Series: The V'ehsz Legacy [10]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Blindness, Blood, Blood and Gore, Brainwashing, Broken Bones, Buried Alive, Canon-Typical Violence, Car Accidents, Carrying, Cathars (Star Wars), Caught, Chiss (Star Wars), Chronic Pain, Claustrophobia, Collars, Dismemberment, Drowning, Earthquakes, Exhaustion, Eye Trauma, F/F, Fainting, Force Choking (Star Wars), Gen, Ghosts, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Hallucinations, Homelessness, Injury, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mild Blood, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Mirialans (Star Wars), Needles, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Paranoia, Partner Betrayal, Poisoning, Possession, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Power Outage, Self-Sacrifice, Sensory Deprivation, Sith Pureblood, Sleep Deprivation, Stabbing, Torture, Twi'leks (Star Wars), Whumptober 2020, Zabraks (Star Wars), they'll be added with each chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:01:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 31
Words: 12,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26778535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blitzindite/pseuds/Blitzindite
Summary: Works for 2020's Whumptober involving my SWTOR characters in various situations. Mostly short drabbles.
Relationships: Female Bounty Hunter/Female Sith Warrior, Female Jedi Knight | Hero of Tython/Female Jedi Knight, Male Imperial Agent | Cipher Nine/Theron Shan, Male Smuggler/Male Smuggler
Series: The V'ehsz Legacy [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862341
Kudos: 9





	1. Day 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 1: Let's Hang Out Sometime  
> Prompts Used: Waking Up Restrained
> 
> Warnings: None  
> Characters: Rediaex'aere'zortiea (Cipher Nine)

He’d done a lot of crazy things. Things he couldn’t believe he’d done. Things he regretted, and things he didn’t.

This didn’t even make top five.

But…it was probably close. He’d admit that.

His ears and jaw were sore from his mask being ripped away from his face—he could see it off in the corner. The lenses were cracked and one of the earpieces broken completely so it would never stay on until it was repaired or replaced. He felt exposed without it. No matter. There were more important things to consider.

His head ached. He couldn’t remember if he’d been hit or drugged or gassed, but either way he’d been out cold.

Shifting—trying to—revealed his hands tied behind his back against the back of his chair, feet in much the same predicament against its legs. He wished he could say this was the first time he’d woken up tied to a chair, but…well, that would be a lie if he did. At least usually being captured was intentional.

Dim room, mostly empty, a shrouded figure on the other side of the glass wall. It felt like the sort of interrogation room he’d find hidden within unseemly warehouses. Maybe it was, far as he knew.

Interrogation room. Wonderful. What group had it out for him this time? Being tortured wasn’t on his list of things he’d wanted to do today.

The door opened with a soft hiss, allowing the figure entry.

All right, Xaerez, he thought. Gather what intel you can and then see if you can break out of here…


	2. Day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2: In the Hands of the Enemy  
> Prompts Used: Collars, Kidnapped
> 
> Warnings: PTSD  
> Characters: Synnda V'ehsz (Barsen'thor), Qizulth Verryn (Darth Nox)

Drifting, in and out of consciousness. Synnda couldn’t remember what exactly had happened. One moment he and Nox had been back-to-back, lightsabers brandished at their attackers, then…

Then they were here. Two separate but nearby cells, the shining armor of Zakuul Knights keeping guard and watching cameras. The Jedi grimaced when he shifted; his limbs felt heavy. His robe was torn and singed, a burn from the Knights’ pikes scored into his chestplate and cybernetic arm—it didn’t want to cooperate. Something had been damaged in it and he could barely even bend the fingers.

Cold metal at his neck. Zakuul-grade collars. To keep them groggy, to prevent them from using the Force or breaking free.

…Wait.

Collars?

His eyes shifted to his companion across the narrow hall.

Nox had backed himself into a corner of his cell. He sat rigid: Shoulders hunched, eyes wide, breathing fast. He had one hand over his throat, touching at the collar with his fingertips, while the other twisted the fabric of his robes. Synnda could sense the anxiety coming from the Sith in waves.

When Nox’s bright yellow eyes finally shifted to meet the Jedi’s, they were begging; in that one single glance, his eyes alone said so much. _“Get this off of me,”_ they pleaded. _“Get me out of here.”_


	3. Day 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3: My Way or the Highway  
> Prompts Used: Manhandled, Held at Gunpoint, Forced to Their Knees
> 
> Warnings: Guns, Character Injury, Minor Blood  
> Characters: Jendrush "Jen" Sept (Voicewolf - Cathar)

The butt of the blaster cracking against his skull was enough for stars to explode across Jen’s vision. He could only groan when there was a hand in his hair, tugging harshly at his ponytail to force him to kneel while narrowed eyes and the muzzles of blasters stared him down.

The dingy yellow lights of the room were almost too bright for his swirling vision, yet the Cathar still grinned a grin of pointy teeth. They were stained with his own blood—be it from his split lip or having bitten his tongue or cheek, he had no idea.

“What? Good ol’ Cap’n here too much for one’a ya t’ handle?” His words were slurring—he could barely understand _himself_. That…couldn’t be a good sign. Concussion? Or maybe he shouldn’t have drank that whiskey earlier. Both? Probably both… His crew was gonna lecture him for a week after this.

“Shut up.” One of the blasters pressed against the back of his neck.

Now would be a great time for a daring rescue, Jen thought. Any moment now…


	4. Day 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 4: Running Out of Time  
> Prompts Used: Collapsed Building, Buried Alive
> 
> Warnings: Major Character Injury, Blood  
> Characters: Liolana Vetiko (Hero of Tython - Cathar), Kira Carsen

She’d tried. She really had. But her words fell on deaf ears as the group of Sixth Line Jedi had advanced on her. Too-pale eyes, darkness coming from them in waves to suffocate her senses, Vitiate’s voice—a voice that had her faltering, miss-stepping, holding her lightsaber far too tightly—echoing from the mouths of the possessed. She knew she’d been much the same in their place what seemed like so long ago, now.

She’d broken free from his control. Couldn’t they do the same? Weren’t they strong enough? Only Master Surro showed any chance of breaking free, and even she fell back under control in so little time.

Backed into a corner, Liolana bared her fangs, hissed, lashed her tail. “I don’t want to hurt any of you, but I will defend myself!” she growled. The possessed didn’t so much as pause.

The next thing she knew, the Sixth Line were falling back as the ceiling caved in from artillery fire. Liolana couldn’t so much as lift her arms before it hit her, then…

Groggy, vision swimming, breaths wheezing, a deep ache through her entire body and blood pooling around her; her nose scrunched at the stench of it. When she tried to move, a whine escaped her. She was pinned, metal beams impaling her thigh, her shoulder, slicing into her stomach and across her chest.

She could hear a voice as the collapsed walls were torn apart from the outside.

“…aster Vetiko? Leo?”

A familiar voice, even if it sounded like she was hearing it through water. One she’d grown proud of as she watched the young woman go from Padawan to Knight, as they fought side-by-side and shared laughs and hard times and teased Doc and just talked.

“Kira..?” The name was silent as it fell from her lips; she could taste blood when she coughed. She was so tired…


	5. Day 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 5: Where Do You Think You're Going?  
> Prompts Used: On the Run, Failed Escape
> 
> Warnings: None  
> Characters: Jendrush Sept (Voidhound - Cathar), Varrich Tophrik (Meteor - Mirialan)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> young Jen and Varrich! Vee’s still freshly into the Academy here, and Jen’s a long way from getting his in-game crew

Customs. Oh, how Jen hated customs. At least he could usually bribe or lie his way out of having his cargo searched.

But…something told him that wasn’t going to happen this time. The customs official was young and had a camera on his chest and earpiece at his head, speaking into it like he had an instructor on the other end. The official had a steely look in his eyes, jaw locked, would only glare at him whenever Jen tried to say something witty.

Oh, boy. This looked like a fun one to have at parties.

The patch on the man’s uniform read “TOPHRIK,” and even though he was young he had a lot of the traditional Mirialan tattoos already spanning his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, and chin. Jen wasn’t even going to pretend to know what any of them meant.

“…unscheduled cargo dropoff by a ‘Falyn Dosk’?”

“Uh, yep. That’s me!” 

“It also says here Dosk is Twi’lek.” He gave the Cathar a _look._ “I’m no expert, but I don’t think Twi’leks have fur.” Had it come from anyone else, Jen probably would have laughed. But this guy was deadpan and already sizing Jen up like he was ready for a fight.

“…I can explain.”

“I’m sure it’s a very convincing explanation.” The Mirialan was already reaching for the cuffs at his belt.

“Well, would ya look at the time!”

With that…Jen bolted. The other man didn’t look even remotely surprised when he took chase with blaster already in hand. It was set to stun—Jen could tell by the sound when a shot zipped past his ear.

Tripping over a customs droid that started trilling an alarm, Jen cursed under his breath, picked himself up, and pressed on. The Coruscant spaceport was one of the larger ones he’d been to, but if he could get outside, hijack a taxi to get away from the plaza, then maybe…

Something hitting him from behind knocked the wind out of him and swiped his feet right out from under him.

Next thing he knew, his hands were being cuffed in front of him and the Mirialan was glaring daggers at him with an iron grip on his shoulder. Dammit…


	6. Day 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 6: Please...  
> Prompts Used: "Stop, Please"
> 
> Warnings: Minor Character Death  
> Characters: Ar'eonis'terrinxx (Grand Champion - Chiss), Kaal Breze (Bounty Hunter - Human)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> set when Terrin, the Chiss, was still just a little kid

Two pairs of bright red eyes—they’d glowed slightly in the dark room while their owners’ heads snapped toward the doorway. Kaal could still remember them clearly. Most hunts didn’t stick with him. Most that he accepted didn’t bother him. He was a bounty hunter, it was his job.

But as he looked to the little Chiss girl playing with the toys he’d made for her, as she looked at him with big, red eyes and smiled a smile that revealed a missing tooth, his mind drifted back to that night. To the furrow of the couple’s brows, to the way the husband lunged for the closet, the way they both cried when Kaal kicked the man away from the door and back toward the bed.

He didn’t ask questions. At least, he didn’t back then. He didn’t know why there was a bounty on the couple, only that there was and it was just another job to put some credits in his pocket. They were members of the Chiss Ascendancy living in Kaas City—easy pickings, once he got past their guards.

They’d begged. They’d bribed. They’d cried. He couldn’t remember their names anymore.

“ _Take me, but don’t hurt her!”_ the husband had begged as he put himself between her and Kaal.

“ _Why are you doing this? Please,_ please _stop!”_ said the wife.

Two shots. That was all he’d needed, and the pair fell silent against their expensive carpet. Yet…he’d still heard crying. Crying, high pitched, from the connected room.

His stomach had twisted when he found that the culprit of the sound was an infant. A little girl, wrapped in a blanket in her cradle and having a fit over the sounds that had awaken her. She couldn’t have been more than a few weeks old.

How long had passed since that night? That same little baby was older now, always grinning and getting into trouble and laughing over something or other.

No matter if he wanted it or not, every time she looked at him with those bright red eyes, gave him that big smile, he’d remember that night. It would remind him, over and over again, that eventually, he’d have to tell her why she—a Chiss—was being raised by a Human.


	7. Day 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 7: I've Got You  
> Prompts Used: Carrying  
> -  
> Warnings: None  
> Ship: Sith Warrior/Bounty Hunter  
> Characters: Azan Tarnak (Lord Wrath - Sith Pureblood), Max Tro (Bounty Hunter - Human)

Azan offered a grimace of a smile at the woman curled up on her couch. Max had stripped her armor to leave her in the underlying bodysuit, hair slick with sweat, brows scrunched together and face bare of its usual skull paint. The Sith didn’t need the Force to tell that Max was miserable and had a fever.

She took a seat on the edge of the sofa and placed a hand against her girlfriend’s forehead. Max flinched initially, but then leaned into Azan’s warm touch.

“I told you to wear your warmer gear if you were going to Hoth.”

A groan answered, followed by the smaller woman crossing her arms over her face.

“I also told you that you should be checked by a medical droid.”

_That_ got a reaction. Max’s bright blue eyes peeked over her arms; she was glaring daggers. “No,” she mumbled before covering her eyes again.

“All right, that’s enough.” Azan always knew there would be an upside to being so much larger than her partner: Picking Max up was easy, even as the Human jolted and tried to roll back onto the couch. “Stop that. Come here.”

Bridal style, Max was carried up the stairs and straight to Azan’s room. It didn’t take long for her to stop struggling and instead press her face against the Sith’s neck.

“You’re warm… Like a blanket.” Max murmured.

Azan just shook her head and chuckled. “And _you_ are a reckless Mandalorian who needs to go to sleep,” she said as she pulled the covers back over Max’s curled up frame.

“Mm… I’ll sleep if you lay with me.”

Oh, no. There were The Eyes. With even her nose tucked under the blanket, Azan could only see Max’s blue eyes and arched brows. How could she say no to those eyes?

Leaning down to place a kiss on Max’s forehead, the Sith relented.

It didn’t take long for Max to shift so she was curled up against Azan’s chest, nor for them both to drift off to sleep.


	8. Day 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 8: Where Did Everybody Go?  
> Prompts Used: Abandoned, Isolation  
> -  
> Warnings: Homelessness  
> Characters: Jessi Toklar (Trooper - Human/Zabrak), Jeva Toklar (Smuggler - Human/Zabrak)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set when these two were little kids

Even with the neon signs and the lights of shuttles and speeders and lampposts, even with lights above back alley doorways and shining through windows and reflecting off puddles, it still seemed so dark as Jessi tucked herself and her sibling into a corner by a dumpster. Little Jeva clung to Jessi’s pantleg, wide eyes looking far too innocently up at the older sister.

“I know, I know. I’ll find you something to eat soon.”

Jeva’s stomach rumbled in answer, which only brought the five-year-old to start crying.

It had only been a few days. They both still flinched when they heard shouting or blaster fire in the streets or nearby cantinas. The gang members had come to collect payment, their parents resisted, and…

Jessi didn’t want to even think about what would have happened to them if she hadn’t grabbed Jeva and ran.

“Jess! Hungry!” Jeva whined while tugging at Jessi’s dingy shirt.

Kneeling, even as she shivered at the damp ground against her leg, Jessi put one finger to her lips and the other hand on her sibling’s shoulder. “Shush, Jay Jay. We don’t want bad people finding us again, right?” Jeva’s eyes widened and they shook their head maybe a bit too quickly. “Right. So be quiet, and I’ll find you food. You gotta trust me.”

They needed food, and shelter, a way to defend themselves (or, more so for Jessi to defend them both), credits. How was a child supposed to take care of not only herself, but also her younger sibling in the dangerous streets of Nar Shaddaa?

Jessi wouldn’t voice her concerns to Jeva. They were too young. They wouldn’t understand the situation they were in like she did.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 9: For the Greater Good  
> Prompts Used: "Take Me Instead"  
> -  
> Warnings: None  
> Ship: Smuggler/Smuggler  
> Characters: Jendrush Sept (Voidhound - Cathar), K'hedif (Smuggler - Sith Pureblood)

Back-to-back, blasters drawn, fangs bared. Jen’s eyes tracked the lightsabers of their opponents—blasters, no armor, their grenades used up? The two smugglers wouldn’t stand a chance if the Sith chose to advance.

“Uh. Well, usually I kinda figure I probably ticked one of you off, buuut I’m usually pretty careful about avoiding kriffin’ Sith, so…”

“They don’t care about _you_ ,” K’hedif murmured. The accent he often tried so hard to hide had slipped into his words. “They are here for me.”

“Traitor,” “weak,” “coward.” The words were spat by the Sith as if they were made of poison.

At his back, Jen could feel K’hedif shifting, putting himself between Jen and one Sith in particular. “Your quarrel is with me. Leave the Cathar alone and I’ll surrender.”

One Sith snorted. One didn’t look surprised. “Deal,” she said.

Jen’s eyes widened. Oh, _hell_ no. “Kitty!” He jabbed an elbow back into the Pureblood’s ribs to emphasize his growl. “Don’t you _dare_ —”

“Hush.”

One lightsaber sheathed, followed by a second. The third Sith also drew back slightly, though kept hers poised. She’d been acting like she knew K’hedif personally. Had they met before he fled Korriban?

“Like hell I’m lettin’ you do this!”

Hands found his wrists—familiar hands, ones he usually found comfort in, ones that often held him close—tried to wrestle his blasters away without hurting him. Fiery orange eyes—sad, defeated—locked onto his. “Enough, Jen.” Two words, tone one of resignation, big hands finally prying his weapons away from him. “I… They’ll leave you be.”

“They’re Sith! Soon as you’re outta here—”

“Ver’risc—” he tipped his head toward the Sith who still had her weapon active, “—she’ll keep her word. Trust me. They only want me.”

“Don’t you dare do this! You can’t do this to me…”

A gentle hand on his cheek, stroking at ruffled fur. “I’m sorry.”

Jen didn’t even have time to blink back the tears before K’hedif shoved him. He didn’t even touch Jen, instead using the Force; it hit him in the chest, knocked the air from his lungs and sent him sprawling onto his back. He was left coughing and gasping as he tried to breathe again.

When he’d recovered, the Sith were gone. K’hedif along with them.


	10. Day 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 10: They Look So Pretty When They Bleed  
> Prompts Used: Blood Loss  
> -  
> Warnings: Blood, Stabbing, Major Character Injury  
> Characters: Varrich Tophrik (Meteor - Mirialan), Trooper Crew (background)

The pop of a stealth generator registered only too late; a vibroblade was already biting into Varrich’s gut only to be wrenched back out just as he’d turned toward the sound with his rifle poised. Sinking to one knee, he bit back a groan as his attacker was felled with one well-aimed shot from Jorgan on a nearby rooftop.

“Major’s down!” Vik barked from…somewhere. Varrich couldn’t see him, but judging by the explosion that followed he wasn’t far.

Pressing a hand to the bleeding hole in his stomach, he could only hiss as he added pressure. Stop the bleeding, his mind told him as he went into autopilot. Stave it off, at least until Elara’s done helping Yuun.

Heavy, metal steps at his side and Varrich raised his blaster with a snarl. Injured or not, he wouldn’t go down without a…fight..?

“Forex?” Relief—even as his voice was strained and that relief was shrouded by a pained grimace, it was there—as the droid put himself between Varrich and their opponents.

His armor had already been covered in grime—in ash, and dirt, and mud and blaster burns—and now blood made the duraplast slick, further stained the white surface. It soaked into the flexible fabric across his abdomen, into his glove, the dirt and dead grass beneath him.

Blink away the dizziness, he scolded himself with a shake of the head that only made it worse. Watch Forex’s back, stay alert until Elara can reach you.


	11. Day 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 11: Psych 101  
> Prompts Used: Struggling, Defiance  
> -  
> Warnings: Minor Blood/Violence  
> Characters: Ar'eonis'terrinxx (Grand Champion - Chiss), Unnamed Background Characters

Hair a mess as loose strands hung in her face, nose bloody, hands tied behind her back (and boy was it uncomfortable with her armor not meant for that position). Still, Terrin scowled at her captors, snarled, even tried to sink her teeth into one of their hands when it found her chin to force her to look up.

“Needed ten of ya _and_ a fire-proof net just to get me cornered and pinned,” she sneered. “ _Real_ impressive. Go fight a monkey-lizard next time—maybe you could actually solo one of ‘em.”

They were bounty hunters, and to hell if she knew what they were after her for.

…Mostly because there were _a lot_ of things she’d done to tick off the wrong people and there were probably dozens who wanted her head for one reason or another, but hey. A job’s a job.

The group was clearly new at hunting. One of them even flinched when her glare shifted to him. The o _nly_ reason they’d taken her down was the damn net catching her jetpack had made her crash right at their feet. They didn’t even have a carbonite freezer or proper bindings for her wrists: She could already feel it fraying as she struggled and it rubbed at the rough edges of her armor.

“How’s that one I set on fire doin’ anyway? He sure screamed. Hah!”

“Shut up.”

A fist cracked against her jaw before she’d even seen the leader step forward. Oh, that was a good one. It would definitely leave a bruise.

Terrin grinned anyway, lifted her head to stare the leader straight in the eyes. They were face-to-face now. She could taste blood on her tongue; the punch had made her bite her own lip open.

Then, she spit.


	12. Day 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 12: I Think I've Broken Something  
> Prompts Used: Broken Trust  
> -  
> Spoilers For: Crisis on Umbara/traitor arc  
> Warnings: None  
> Ship: Imperial Agent/Theron Shan  
> Characters: Rediaex'aere'zortiea (Cipher Nine), Theron Shan (mentioned only)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as much as it hurts, this arc was literally perfect for the prompt-  
> this one’s more angsty than whumpy, but still counting it since Xaerez is emotionally vulnerable rather than physically

Xaerez hadn’t seen the signs.

Now, he was kicking himself for it. They’d been there. They’d been obvious if he’d just paid attention. The way Theron would avert his eyes when anything went wrong? It just wasn’t like him.

Xaerez had never believed love could blind.

Clearly, it could.

With a deep breath, he closed his eyes as he leaned heavily against the desk. A week already. No leads. Nothing. Xaerez…he still didn’t want to accept it. Maybe that made him a fool. He was a spy himself, for crying out loud. He’d done his fair share of playing with other’s emotions to get what he wanted. But what they had…

Another breath. In, out, as he reached blindly for his mask where it lay at the edge of the desk.

Head high, voice even, he told himself. No one needs to know how it’s affecting you. They don’t need to know that you’ve barely slept since it happened.

Hearing implants adjusted (yeah, maybe he’d tuned Lana out when she was outside his door earlier, pretended to sleep instead of hearing whatever she had to say about Theron), mask on. He lifted his head, looked at his reflection in the monitor at his desk.

He saw the graying hair at his temples Theron would tease him about. He saw the way his shoulders slouched with exhaustion and hurt and confusion—he straightened them, but it was like trying to do so while weights were hanging off of them. Saw the mask, still with a cracked lens from jumping out of the train on Umbara. Usually, he would have replaced it by now.

At least the mask would hide the bags under his eyes and the tremble in his lip.


	13. Day 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 13: Breathe In, Breathe Out  
> Prompts Used: Delayed Drowning  
> -  
> Warnings: Drowning  
> Characters: Ar'eonis'terrinxx (Grand Champion - Chiss), Kaal Breze (Bounty Hunter - Human)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, set when Terrin was little

Their soaked clothes had been left out to dry, and now they were changed and little Terrin was wrapped in a blanket on the couch. She kept it pulled up close to her nose, would occasionally cough, but she was safe, now. She’d been playing on the dock while Kaal had been speaking with someone selling a speeder. Next thing he knew, he’d heard the splash and she wasn’t at his side.

Diving in with his armor on had made things difficult; it was heavy, made it hard to swim—he’d probably about drowned, himself—and the seller was the one to pull Terrin back onto the dock when Kaal got a hold of her. They’d proceeded to grab Kaal by the arm to haul him back up, too.

“Hey, kiddo…”

She looked tired, eyes drifting lazily up at him. Kaal pursed his lips and took a seat at her side, pressed the back of his hand on her forehead. Could Chiss get fevers like Humans did? Dammit, he had no idea…

“How’re you feelin’?”

“My chest hurts…” Her voice was soft, small. So quiet. Nothing about Terrin was ever quiet.

Secondary drowning, that’s what it was called, right? Swallowed water, it had gotten in her lungs… And he had no idea what to do about it. Okay, he thought, then bring her to someone who _does_ know.

Kaal scooped her up without hesitation—she coughed a few times, then tucked her her head under his chin. Medical care. He needed to get her to a doctor.


	14. Day 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 14: Is Something Burning?  
> Prompts Used: Heat Exhaustion  
> -  
> Warnings: Fainting  
> Ship: Imperial Agent/Theron Shan  
> Characters: Rediaex'aere'zortiea (Cipher Nine - Chiss), Theron Shan

They were to meet with a contact while the Commander and a select few others she’d trusted were off meeting with ones on other planets. Xaerez and Theron had been sent off to Tatooine, and he was pretty sure he’d seen the Chiss’ shoulders slump upon getting his task. Xaerez wasn’t one to complain, but he obviously hated the heat.

“You _are_ keeping hydrated, right?”

“Hm?” Binoculars down, Xaerez glanced over with a look on his face like he hadn’t thought of that, more focused looking for the signal their supposed contact was supposed to put out. Which of the two was more of a workaholic was a mystery… “Yes, yes. Let’s just deal with this so we can leave this planet.”

It was hard to see it with only Xae’s eye visible under the cap and scarf he was wearing, but he was sweating and kept pinching the bridge of his nose or rubbing at his eyes like he had a headache, would squeeze his eyes shut and shake his head as if to clear dizziness.

With a frown Xaerez didn’t seem to notice as he returned his attention back to the expanse of desert that stretched far beyond, Theron wiped the sweat from his brow and pulled his own binoculars back up—though kept glancing at the other from time-to-time.

And then the next thing he knew, Xae was collapsing.

“Whoa, whoa, hey!” Kneeling at his side, Theron pulled the Chiss’ scarf down, felt at his pulse; Xaerez didn’t move from where he’d slumped against the sand. Rapid pulse, and patting his cheek garnered no reaction.

Shifting, Theron grabbed the other under his arms to drag him to the shadows cast by their speeders. By the time he’d rested Xae against one of them, he was awake again with one hand pressed against his head.

“Sip,” Theron demanded, holding out one of their water bottles.

Eyes closed, head tipping back against the speeder, Xae shook his head even as he took a drink. “I really do despise this planet.”

“Hey, maybe Commander’ll send us to Hoth next time.”

“Please.”

“I…was joking.”

“I wasn’t.” Xae gave the tiniest of grins, then. A smile from him, even small and tired as that one was, was something very few ever had the pleasure of seeing. “Send me to Hoth over this dustball any day.”

It was Theron’s turn to shake his head—followed by giving Xae a _look_ when he acted like he was going to stand up again. “Xaerez… Stay.”

He took a seat at Xae’s side, grateful for the small amount of shade from the planet’s suns. Grabbing the water bottle that had been set aside, Theron pushed it back into his hands. “Sip,” he said again. “And then you’re sleeping as soon as we’re back on the shuttle.”

It got a halfhearted roll of the eyes from Xaerez, but he did as he was told as he leaned into Theron’s side. “This planet is truly awful.”

“Heh. At least we don’t have fur?”


	15. Day 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SPOILERS FOR: Jedi Knight Story  
> -  
> Day 15: Into the Unknown  
> Prompts Used: Possession  
> -  
> Warnings: Possession, Choking, Minor Character Death  
> Characters: Liolana Vetiko (Hero of Tython - Cathar), Vitiate (sort of), Unnamed Jedi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> set when the knight was under Vitiate's control

She sees it. Everything. Every action, every life taken by her own hands, yet her thoughts are blank. _He_ holds the leash tight. Keeps her close, reigned in, doing his bidding.

She sees the fear in…who? She doesn’t recognize the man. Human. Lightsaber. A Jedi. She knows the word, yet doesn’t as it’s forced from her mind. There’s fear in his eyes. He gasps for air, claws at his own throat. His feet dangle in the open air beneath him, toes reaching desperately for the ground just out of reach.

Her hand is outstretched. Fingers curled into a cruel claw that slowly squeezes the Jedi’s throat shut. A part of her—buried somewhere deep, trying to push its way to the surface—tells her it’s wrong. Begs her to stop.

The Jedi chokes out a name—her name? But when her mind tries to latch onto it, the name flees from her reach.

Tighten the leash, make her forget.

She snarls and curls her hand into a tight fist.

The Jedi falls limp.


	16. Day 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 16: A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day  
> Prompts Used: Hallucinations  
> -  
> Spoilers for: Imperial Agent story  
> Warnings: Hallucinations, Brainwashing  
> Characters: Rediaex'aere'zortiea (Cipher Nine - Chiss), Agent Crew/NPCs (background)

Slow breaths. Even breaths, Xaerez told himself. Just…

He pinched the bridge of his nose as his vision swam. He’d been drugged before. He’d dealt with hallucinogens. They weren’t pleasant, but—

Fingers pressed against his temples. At that point he wasn’t sure whether they were his own or not. Maybe he was imagining them, too. He grit his teeth when they pressed into the soft flesh there, at their nails bit into his head and surely drew blood. As they pressed into his skull and started twisting, twisting, _twisting—_

Eyes squeezed shut, hearing implants switched off completely but he could _still hear it_. Clear as day: Screaming, and laughter, and Jadus’ voice and Mia’s face and Watchers Two and X talking—and… No, no, they weren’t there. He was…on the ship. Right..? On his ship, with his crew, only his crew. No one else. They were the only ones aboard.

Xaerez didn’t know when he stripped his mask from his face so he could press his hands over his eyes. Didn’t realize it was on the floor to trip him, to send him falling against his closed door with a _thud_ that had his crew startled and looking between each other with silent questions. He couldn’t get it to open; his hands fumbled, vision teetered dizzyingly.

He’d tried to tell them, he’d _tried_. When he did, his voice was no longer his own, tongue twisting in ways he didn’t want it to. _“I’m fine. Nothing to worry about,”_ it had said.

Not real, not real, all in your head…

The word. That _damned word_. It rang like an echo.

No, no. This was worse than any hallucinogen.

Glancing up, he came eye-to-eye with Keeper...no, no, Minister, now. Xaerez furrowed his brow, mouthed the man’s title—only to be shoved.

His head smacked against the floor, and he wasn’t sure if the Lokin who rushed to his side was even real or not…


	17. Day 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 17: I Did Not See That Coming  
> Prompts Used: Wrongfully Accused  
> -  
> Spoilers for: Bounty Hunter story  
> Warnings: None  
> Characters: Ar'eonis'terrinxx (Grand Champion - Chiss), Bounty Hunter Crew (background)

Terrin dragged her hands down her face as Mako listed charge after charge after charge that she was wanted by the Republic for. Things Terrin had never even done—things she’d never, _ever_ , do for any amount of credits—fell from the Human’s lips.

“I’m gonna kill ‘em,” she finally growled. “Every last one of ‘em!”

She didn’t have a problem being charged with things she’d _actually kriffin’ done_. But this? Oh, she’d have someone’s head for this.

Former Grand Champions killed _at a party_ of all things— _cowards!_ They were _cowards_ for targeting the group only when they had their guard down!—bounty after bounty on Terrin’s head, Torian kidnapped just to lure her in.

Her mouth twisted into an ugly snarl as she slammed a fist against the nearest wall; she left a dent behind and made Blizz jump and scamper behind Mako’s legs.

Terrin’s hair was frazzled, makeup smeared, armor and face still covered in ash from her weapon. None of the crew dared step forward to calm her down.

“Every last one of ‘em,” she swore. “And I’m snapping that kriffin’ Jedi’s neck.”


	18. Day 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 18: Panic! At the Disco  
> Prompts Used: Paranoia  
> -  
> Spoilers for: Inquisitor story  
> Warnings: Paranoia  
> Characters: Qizulth Verryn (Darth Nox - Twi'lek), Inquisitor Crew/Ghosts

They shouted.

They laughed.

They taunted.

“ _Foolish child,”_ said one.

“ _Freed from a collar, still only a puppet,”_ sneered another.

“ _Your crew—they’ll drive a knife in your back,”_ warned a third with a smile in his voice.

The other voices lapped over each other, drowned each other out, made it impossible to tell what his crew or even the other spirits were saying.

Qizulth’s eyes were heavy, his head aching like someone had slammed it against the side of the ship, and he wasn’t sure whether the movements he saw at the corners of his vision were even real or not. Was it Ashara tapping at the table, or her ancestor Qizulth wished to all hell he could throw out an airlock? Was it Andronikos speaking, telling him course was finally set for Voss, or Ergast mocking him that seeking help there would be a fruitless endeavor?

Darth Andru babbled on about his traitorous children— _snakes, snakes!_ —Horak-mul leered down at him. They spoke and shouted amongst each other and at the young Sith who just wanted an hour—one hour, _please!_ —of silence. Let me close my eyes, he begged in his mind.

They only laughed.

They wouldn’t shut up, they wouldn’t _shut up._

Every little sound, every whisper, every tap of a foot—he heard it all as his exhausted mind tried so hard to ignore it. The _Ruin’s_ engines were too loud, Khem’s footsteps were too loud, the spirits were too loud, everything was _too loud—_

“My lord?”

His hands slammed down on the table and he spun to face the speaker. Ashara’s brows were raised only in concern.

“You were talking to…” Her eyes drifted through the room. The too-crowded room. Kalatosh crossed his arms when her stare drifted past him. She couldn’t see him—any of them—but knew they were there, somewhere. “You should try to rest before we arrive.”

The laugh bubbled up from Qizulth’s chest before he even knew it was there. It earned him a strange look from not only her, but Horak-mul, too. “Rest? _Rest?”_ He gestured through the room, accusing finger landing randomly on one of the spirits—on Andru, who paid it no mind and continued on with his rant. “Try to sleep with four spirits shouting, shouting, _shouting_ in your head!”

He couldn’t tell who was who anymore. When was it his crew, and when was it the spirits in his mind trying to drive him insane?

Too loud, too loud, everything was too loud—

Ashara stepped forward, maybe to put a hand on his shoulder to bring him back to the present, maybe…

Fangs bared, Qizulth brandished his lightsaber. Ashara jumped back. One of the spirits laughed delightedly. “Don’t touch me!”

“Whoa, whoa, hey! We’ve hit hyperspace—put that damn thing away before you damage somethin’! Or some _one!”_ Andronikos was in the doorway.

Qizulth’s hands were shaking as he held the weapon in front of himself, as he backed against the wall farthest from them.

_Snakes, snakes. Who’ll drive the knife in your back?_


	19. Day 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 19: Broken Hearts  
> Prompts Used: Grief, Mourning Loved One  
> -  
> Warnings: None(?)  
> Characters: Melina Tophrik (Jedi Consular - Mirialan), Aric Jorgan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaand Lina proceeds to not see her brother for nearly five years after this :')

“He’s not dead. I…I would have sensed it.”

Though it was only a holocall, it was hard to miss the way Jorgan averted his eyes. _“We’re still searching, but things aren’t looking good.”_ He closed his eyes, shook his head with a deep breath. _“He was thrown off the Spire. Even if we do find him…”_

He trailed off, but it was enough to paint a grisly picture in Lina’s mind. A picture of broken bones and a face twisted in pain, of collapsed lungs and gasping breath and her brother—her dear twin—unable to move, to call for help. She swallowed, took a shuddering breath.

No, she told herself. Don’t think that way.

“ _We should have found him by now,”_ the Cathar continued. _“It’s as if he just…vanished.”_

Her eyes drifted away from the call—up, up, out her window in the small hotel toom, to the Eternal Fleet ships high in the atmosphere. She couldn’t leave Coruscant. She couldn’t get to Zakuul to aid the search. But Varrich…

Blinking away tears, Lina cleared her throat. “Keep me in the loop. Please. I’ll try to get there as soon as I find a way around the blockade.” She knew a smuggler—a Cathar who owed her a favor, anyway—who could maybe get her around it. She just had to find his frequency again.

“ _I’ll keep you updated,”_ Jorgan promised. _“We’ll continue the search. I’m sorry.”_

The call ended, and the Jedi could only close her eyes and lean heavily against the desk. The tears weren’t long to come.


	20. Day 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 20: Toto, I Have a Feeling We’re Not in Kansas Anymore  
> Prompts Used: Lost, Field Medicine  
> -  
> Warnings: Major Character Injury, Blood  
> Characters: Max (Human), Veir (Nautolan), & Nori (Human) Tro (all Bounty Hunters)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops totally forgot to post the next ones here

Crashed shuttle, limited supplies, a jungle full of predators and the smell of blood in the air—Max could only keep her blaster poised while she put herself between her brothers and whatever hid just beyond the treeline. She’d broken an arm and bloodied her nose in the crash, but compared to Nori…

She grimaced at the sounds to come from the other Human while Veir tried to set his arms back into place, to stave the bleeding of his gut, hushed him and cursed and threw wild looks toward Max whenever a branch snapped from out of their sight.

“I’m keeping watch, just stop his damn bleeding!” she barked. The visor on her helmet was cracked, but she didn’t dare to take it off. “You _did_ send out the signal, didn’t you?” Max didn’t glance back at the other two, instead keeping her eyes pinned on a spot she could have _sworn_ she saw movement.

“Of course I did!” Veir snapped. “The _Huntress_ should’ve gotten it, but hell if I know how long it’ll take for Taz to see. She’s hunting with everyone else!” There was blood smeared across his armor and face and head-tresses—Max couldn’t tell whether it was his or Nori’s—and his fangs were bared in a worried snarl as he pressed a spare bodysuit against Nori’s bleeding gut.

The Gundark that had attacked him when he limped out of the shuttle lay motionless with a blaster hole between the eyes. There was bound to be more.

“Do we even know what planet we’re on? The map was fritzing the kriff out!”

“I…think Dromund Kaas. Don’t you see the stormclouds?”

“I’m kinda busy makin’ sure nothing tries to tear yours heads off to think of looking up!”

“What about that Sith you’re dating? Can’t you contact her?”

“She’s off the damn radar! Lost contact when she went to Rishi, so she’s outta the question.”

Veir started muttering about how he didn’t have his good medical supplies—just basics for minor injuries they’d often sustain on short hunts—and Max couldn’t help but start chewing her lip. Nori needed far more than the field medicine Veir was trying so desperately make work with what supplies he had…


	21. Day 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 21: I Don't Feel So Well  
> Prompts Used: Chronic Pain  
> -  
> Warnings: Chronic Pain  
> Characters: Varrich Tophrik (Meteor - Mirialan)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KOTFE Varrich – canon version of him, so not Outlander, was used for black market cybernetics experiments

Some days were harder than others. Sometimes he could ignore the ache in his back, his shoulder, the places where his skull had been drilled into. Other days, he just wanted to cover his head and stay right there, curled under the covers that had him sweating but at least hid from him what he didn’t want to see.

Today wasn’t a good day. Waking in the Alliance base barracks to movement from a group of early-risers, the light felt like it was spearing into his eye. His head was aching, he was acutely aware of the metal along his spine—always cold, always biting into the skin—and holy hell, he didn’t want to even _think_ of trying to get up.

But a part of his mind—the disciplined part, the one that still considered him a part of Havoc Squad even if he wanted kriff-all to do with the Republic anymore—told him he needed to get up. Prepare for the day, it said. Lina may be off on another planet providing medical care, but she’d still expect you to keep to your schedule.

Deep breath, teeth grinding against the ache that only seemed to deepen as he forced himself to sit up, pushing himself to his feet. Get ready for the day, he repeated to himself. Just…take it one step at a time.


	22. Day 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 22: Do These Tacos Taste Funny to You?  
> Prompts Used: Poisoned  
> -  
> Warnings: Poisoning, Needles (sort of)  
> Characters: Qizulth Verryn (Darth Nox - Twi'lek), Talos Drellik

“Would you look at that,” Qizulth breathed when they finally got the door open. An old temple, buried deep within a jungle crawling with predators—they’d almost missed it while the _Ruin_ flew past.

“ _My lord—”_ Ashara’s voice crackled and died over the comm as the pair trekked down the winding stairs that would lead farther in.

It was in rough shape: holes worn into the walls and ceiling in places, vines climbing every possible surface, the skeletons of little animals that had found themselves trapped inside. It was a wonder the mechanisms for the door still even worked.

Whether the Sith or Talos was more in awe was hard to tell.

The stairs spiraled into darkness and only the light of the Sith’s lightsaber kept them from miss-stepping and falling to their deaths (and even then, there was a point where Talos grabbed Qizulth’s robes when he nearly slipped, and another where they took hold of each other’s arms when a step crumbled away practically right under their feet). Qizulth had never seen a temple quite like it, though he wondered if his companion ever had. It was as if a hole had been drilled straight for the planet’s core, and the temple built within it. As far as he could tell, it appeared almost perfectly circular.

“My lord, look!”

The steep incline of the steps had begun to taper off, and if he really strained his eyes, he could see stone floor below with what light his weapon gave off. And just beyond that, tucked away in the shadows and easy to pass off as his eyes playing tricks, was another doorway. There were a few skeletons, too—many looking like they’d fallen to the bottom while others showed no signs of trauma…

Both were grinning like children by that point.

That was, until they went down the last few steps and stopped cold to the sounds that follows. The step shifted slightly under their weight, sank down until it came parallel with the rest of the floor, followed by the sounds of stone sliding on stone and air hissing.

Qizulth spun to face his companion, used the Force to forcefully shove Talos back up a few of the stairs, winced and hissed through gritted fangs when he felt the sting of darts—multiple needle-pricks that set his skin on fire—landing in his lekku and piercing through his robes.

So careful going down the stairs, only to trigger a trap laying in wait right at the bottom of the endless flight…

Knees buckling to send him to his hands and knees, he held out a hand to stop Talos from coming any closer—from re-triggering the trap. “Get— _argh!_ ” Burning, burning, _burning_ —it felt like molten lava was flowing sluggishly through his veins. He tried to move, but it only brought his brows to scrunch with a sharp gasp.

“I—I’ll get Ashara!” He’d pulled the light from his hip and turned it on—whether or not it was more effective than the lightsaber, Qizulth couldn’t tell.

With a shaky hand, the Sith reached up to pull one of the darts from his shoulder; whatever ancient toxin had filled it dripped from the end of the needle.

“ _Quickly!”_


	23. Day 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 23: What’s a Whumpee Gotta Do to Get Some Sleep Around Here?  
> Prompts Used: Exhaustion, Sleep Deprivation  
> -  
> Spoilers For: Jedi Knight story  
> Warnings: None  
> Characters: Liolana Vetiko (Hero of Tython - Cathar), T7-01

She could practically _feel_ the eyes of her crewmates on her. The _look_ Doc gave her as he studied the bags under her eyes, the way Kira would glance at her whenever she thought the Cathar wasn’t looking, Rusk frowning more than usual when their eyes met, and… and then there was Lord Scourge. Every time she looked at him—at her brand new, Sith Lord, crewmate—her mind went back to her time on the station, under the Emperor’s control, and… It made her stomach churn, thinking of the things she’d done.

Deep breaths, head bowed low as she meditated. Or tried to, at least. Her muscles were too tense and mind wandering far too much to meditate.

Leo jumped at the questioning trill at her side. Taking a moment to let her heart rate slow again, she turned toward the droid who’d somehow managed to get in her room without alerting her.

“Hey there, buddy,” she murmured, patting him affectionately.

Teeseven rocked back-and-forth, beeping at her all the while. _“Master Vetiko = lacking adequate sleep // T7 = can help?”_

It was impossible not to smile a little at that. Her hand ran over his topper, over chipped paint and tiny scratches from decades of runtime and serving the Jedi even before she’d been born.

“I’m okay—promise. Thank you.”

There was nothing decipherable from the following chirps, but she could describe them only as “cross.” Teeseven moved forward—slowly, carefully, ever watchful not to run over her tail that she swiped out of his way—to gently bump against her shoulder. _“Master Vetiko = not a good liar.”_

He didn’t move—didn’t roll back to where he’d been, didn’t rock excitedly—just stayed right there when Leo leaned forward to lean her forehead against him. She closed her eyes to the purring of his engine, the soft chirping that began to sound like total nonsense to her exhausted mind…

And it was there that she finally drifted to sleep.


	24. Day 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 24: You're Not Making Any Sense  
> Prompts Used: Sensory Deprivation  
> -  
> Warnings: Claustrophobia  
> Characters: Jendrush Sept (Voidhound - Cathar)

It was dark. Dark, dark, _too dark_. He couldn’t see anything, couldn’t hear anything but his own breaths.

Throwing wild glances to the sides, over his shoulder, he kicked out to back up only to grimace when he kicked a wall and jarred his ankles. Backing up brought him to hit another wall, reaching out brought both hands to press against ones on either side of him.

No, no, _too dark, too crowded—_

He could only smell his own sweat, hear his own panicked breathing, see only darkness and feel the walls of what he could describe only as a box that seemed to close in around him with every passing moment.

Jen couldn’t even remember what had happened. Why was he there, where was his crew? Where was Kitty? Why was he here? _Why was he here?_


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 25: I Think I’ll Just Collapse Right Here, Thanks  
> Prompts Used: Disorientation, Blurred Vision, Ringing Ears  
> -  
> Warnings: Minor Violence, Minor Character Death  
> Ship: Smuggler/Smuggler  
> Characters: K'hedif (Smuggler - Sith Pureblood), Jendrush Sept (Voidhound - Cathar), Smuggler Crew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, no one ever said whump couldn’t have some humor :P

It was just a routine run. Supposed to be, anyway. Something they’d all done a hundred times. Bowdaar and Akaavi were on either side of the ramp with weapons readied, standing guard; Risha and Corso were in the cockpit, keeping the ship ready for a hasty retreat if the need arose; K’hedif had a medical kit within reach while Jen and Guss pushed crates around on hoversleds. Baesk was watching Jessi and Jeva onboard the _Star Hopper_ to make sure they didn’t cause any mischief (even if Jessi insisted she was old enough to help out), and that should have been that. Easy.

But of course it couldn’t _stay_ easy. At that point, it had become a running joke through the crew that either the _Star Hopper_ or their Captain himself was a bad luck charm, because there came the Exchange with blasters poised.

Bowdaar, Akaavi, and Jen all leapt into action. K’hedif pulled his own weapon and ducked behind the ramp with Guss, while he could hear one of the ship’s guns moving to target the hangar door—it fired at the first group of gangsters to easily take them down.

“Two stealthers!” Jen barked as he ducked what would have been a blow to the head. “And a heavy—watch those kriffin’ rockets!” At least the _Star Hopper’s_ shields were already up…

Guss paused for a few long moments, took aim, and within moments one of the stealthers was down with their generator deactivating—he proceeded to give a wide grin. K’hedif reached through the Force to find the other, did the same before they could attack Bowdaar from behind.

One, two, the gangsters fell as the crew worked like a well-oiled machine. Jen fought dirty, Akaavi and Bowdaar swung their weapons, Corso used the ship’s guns while ever-careful about aiming them too close to one of his allies. Even with all of their different weapons and methods, they were ever-watchful of each other—watching each others’ backs, snapping out warnings, going back-to-back.

Smoke bombs and explosions and blaster fire, scowls and teeth bared in snarls, sweat and twitchy trigger fingers—it was all a familiar scene to the crew’s supply runs.

“Got another stealther!”

The warning came a tad too late that time.

A metal pipe striking the front of K’hedif’s helmet left him falling flat on his back to leave Guss blasting the gangster. He was saying…something, as he leaned over K’hedif. The Pureblood couldn’t make out whatever it was through the ringing of his ears or swimming vision. It just kept ringing, ringing…

Guss was grabbing one of his arms, Jen at the other (when had Jen come over? he’d just been by Bowdaar!) so they could drag him out of the blaster fire. The Captain gestured, and Guss darted off to duck behind a crate to shoot at opponents from cover, while Jen pulled K’hedif’s helmet off.

“Hey.” A furry hand patted his cheek. “Ya look drunk.”

“Very funny.” He found it in himself to scowl up at the Cathar, who only offered a smug grin in return. “When this is over, we’ll put a pot on your head and bang on it—‘cause damn, that’s what it feels like just happened.”

Jen snorted—then offered a kiss on the end of his nose. “How ‘bout you lay here a minute ‘til you can walk without falling on your ass. Oh, and you’re gonna need a new helmet.”

“…Dammit.”


	26. Day 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 26: If You Thought the Head Trauma Was Bad...  
> Prompts Used: Blindness  
> -  
> Warnings: Minor Violence, Choking, Burns, Major Character Injury, Permanent Injury, Eye Trauma  
> Characters: Liakige (Sith Warrior - Human), Unnamed Bounty Hunter, K'hedif (Smuggler - Sith Pureblood), Jendrush Sept (Voidhound - Cathar), Smuggler Crew (background)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ki isn’t my canon Wrath  
> I 100% didn’t mean for Jen’s crew to show up for this. it just. Did??? and I guess Ki’s getting adopted into their found family dynamic and doesn’t have a choice in the matter??

Their hair was uneven: One side previously draped over their shoulder was cut and singed by their own lightsaber. The bounty hunter had it, leaving Liakige with only one. She studied the purple glow with interest, set her eyes on the one still in the Sith’s possession with a grin, and readied her stance. She’d mentioned something about her contractor wanting “genuine Sith and Jedi lightsabers.” She’d probably figured an apprentice was easy pickings.

The Sith sneered at her and lunged.

She was larger than them, physically stronger, and clearly knew how to wield a blade even if she’d maybe never used a lightsaber _specifically_. Her hair was grayed, wrinkles found the corners of her eyes—mercenaries didn’t grow old by hunting things out of their league…

“Feisty, are we?” she laughed when their weapons clashed. Her grin revealed a silver tooth.

A boot to the gut forced them to step back, and they barely managed to move their lightsaber to block a blow to the head. She wanted their weapons—the weapons they’d _earned,_ that they’d crafted with their own two hands, that were essentially an extension of themself. Not happening.

They were both panting, trading blow-after-blow, sweat slicking their brows.

“Just an apprentice, aren’t ya?” Her accent told them she may have been born on Ryloth. She swung her stolen weapon like a club and blocking the blow knocked Liakige’s remaining one right from their hands. Hers swiped across their chest to send them to their knees with a hiss as they pressed their hands to the wound. It was thankfully shallow, but the scent of burned flesh and cloth filled the room.

_Focus!_ their mind barked at them. It’s only one Force-blind hunter!

One hand stretched toward their fallen weapon, pulling it back to themself. The other reached toward the hunter. She stopped her advancement and started clawing at her own throat when their fingers curled.

Weapon raised—aim for the neck—and…

She was grinning again. “Don’t get my age… without a t-trick… or two…”

When she raised the arm with a nozzle (flamethrower?) mounted to it, Liakige didn’t react fast enough. The sensation hit them first—heat, right in the face; the smell of burned hair and flesh and some sort of chemical strong enough it could make anyone gag; they couldn’t see. They stumbled backward, rubbing at their face and tripping over their fallen weapon and releasing the mercenary to leave her falling to hands and knees in a coughing fit.

Maybe it was the surprise when it hit them or the adrenaline already coursing through them, maybe whatever it was actually took a moment to take affect, but it was only when their back had already hit the ground that they were scratching at their eyes when the pain finally hit them. They didn’t realize the cry they heard was their own—it burned, it _burned—_ and tried in vain to wipe at the chemical with a sleeve that it instead ate right through.

“See ya, kid.” She grabbed both of their lightsabers, then… Then she was gone.

Their fingers burned. Their cheeks burned. Their _eyes_. Rubbing at them only made it worse—so, so much _worse_.

Liakige didn’t know they’d fallen unconscious (from the pain? or maybe shock?) until the sound of footsteps startled them awake. It was multiple sets in a combination of materials ranging from metals to leather, to the heavy padding of what could only be large paws. They could feel the other presences through the Force—surprise, distrust, concern, even anger from one of them who Liakige could hear drawing a blaster.

“Captain, that’s a Sith!”

“Easy, Corso…” The second voice had an accent. It was well-hidden by a faked Republic one, but still very much there if one was familiar enough with it: An Imperial accent. “Apprentice, looks like. And badly injured…” The speaker approached and Liakige snarled and reached for weapons that were no longer there. “Hey, easy. Just want to help.”

“Kitty—”

“It’s all right! It’s all right…”

The man who’d been speaking (“Kitty”? what kind of name was “Kitty”?) knelt at their side—through their damaged vision, they could really only make out his towering size—and touched a very ginger hand just beneath what had to be nasty burns around the Sith’s eyes.

The touch only succeeded in startling them and Liakige shoved the man away, backing away while reaching desperately through the Force—how many, who, why were they here?!

“I’ve got kolto,” Kitty said, passing something across the floor toward them. “But you do need proper medical care. Those burns are bad.”

They actually found it in themself to snort. They weren’t stupid enough to let a bunch of strangers try to “help” them—that’s a surefire damn way to get stabbed in the back. “Just stay away from me.” They put all the threat they could muster into those words, though weren’t sure if they could actually _act_ on any threats. Their eyes _hurt…_

They wanted to lash out, get away, find their room to lick their wounds and gather their wits and maybe if they were lucky, they’d be able to find a medical droid. But they couldn’t—not with a solid wall behind them and an armed crew in front of them. Yet they were…strangely calm, despite being cornered. It radiated from Kitty where he stayed a few paces back, right where Liakige had left him.

“Look,” Kitty said, “I know how Sith work. You’re going to show up to wherever your Master wanted to meet with you, and you’ll have an apprentice or acolyte there instead. They’ll try to kill you—maybe succeed with you being injured and unarmed—and take your apprenticeship for themself. Am I wrong?”

Liakige opened their mouth to protest…

Then promptly clamped it shut. Well…

“Exactly. So you either accept some help from a bunch of smugglers who don’t give a kriff about your damn power structure, or risk it with a Force-sensitive with a lightsaber.”

“Neither are trustworthy,” one of them, maybe the leader with how the others milled around him, laughed. “But I sure know who I’d risk it with.”

…Smugglers? These were the people their Master had sent them to intercept?

Liakige was being saved by a bunch of _smugglers?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not super happy with this one since I'm still trying to figure out how I want to portray Liakige, but ah well. this was a good character study at least


	27. Day 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 27: OK, Who Had Natural Disasters on Their 2020 Bingo Card?  
> Prompts Used: Earthquake, Power Outtage  
> -  
> Spoilers for: Rise of the Hutt Cartel  
> Warnings: None  
> Characters: Jendrush Sept (Voidhound - Cathar), Liolana Vetiko (Hero of Tython - Cathar), Synnda V'ehsz (Barsen'thor - Zabrak), Varrich Tophrik (Meteor - Mirialan)

“The planet’s tearin’ itself apart around us, and you’re all just standing around _talking?!”_ Jen barked with his hands pressed against his forehead.

The two Jedi only glanced at each other, while even behind the visor on his helmet it was pretty obvious the Havoc commander was glaring at him.

“We can’t just rush in blindly,” Master V’ehsz said, which got nods from the other two. “We need a plan.”

Vetiko added, “We’re trying to evacuate an entire planet—that’s not something where you can just ‘wing it,’” she gave the smuggler a pointed look, “and hope everything works out in the end.”

Her astromech chirped the affirmative, and Jen stuck his tongue out at it—which only made it chitter in what he could only describe as laughter. Cheeky little bastard.

“Whatever we decide—” The Havoc commander (Tophrik. …why was that familiar? had Jen met a Tophrik before? maybe _that’s_ why he kept glaring at Jen!) was cut off as the ground jolted beneath them. There was panicked shouting from the area outside, and it didn’t take long for Jen to lose his balance and hit the ground alongside his companions.

The groundquake was over just as soon as it had started, but one of the walls in Shalim’s office had a crack running down it. The overhead light continued flickering a few times before it went out completely to leave them all glancing at each other through darkness.

Jen wouldn’t admit how terrifying being on the planet was—it was literally tearing itself apart right under their feet!—but…okay, yeah. It was terrifying. Kriffin’ Hutts…

“Teeseven? Hey, you okay, buddy?” There was soft tapping as Vetiko patted the droid’s topper; it gave what genuinely sounded like a confused or alarmed chirp. Jen really needed to learn binary… Understanding astromechs was impossible.

Tophrik was already giving out orders to his team over his comm before sprinting out of the office himself to help them search for injured. The Barsen’thor wasn’t long to follow.

“That was the strongest one yet,” Jen muttered. “So we goin’ after that isotope or not?”

Vetiko’s tail lashed once before she hung her head. “…We…we need to get everyone off this planet. And quickly.”

“Oh! _You don’t say?”_

“Go find Ilosov or one of the Avestas. I’ll make sure our teams are gathered.”

“Finally! Let’s evacuate Makeb.”


	28. Day 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 28: Such Wow. Many Normal. Very Oops.  
> Prompts Used: Accidents  
> -  
> Spoilers for: Jedi Under Seige  
> Warnings: Character Injury, Broken Bones, Crashes  
> Ship: Jedi Knight/Jedi Knight  
> Characters: Liolana Vetiko (Hero of Tython - Cathar), Ytila'vena (Jedi Knight - Chiss)

“Some of the farms could likely use a hand,” Gnost-Dural commented. “I’d like to send the two of you with harvest supplies to provide aid.”

Leo bowed her head with an, “Of course!” while Avena only offered a nod and hum of acknowledgment.

Leo was the first out to the supplies, grinning at the Chiss as she walked backward with her tail swishing. “Everyone’s saying it’s supposed to be a good harvest this year!” Avena, for her part, had a gentle smile on her face and dirt smeared across her freckled cheeks from an earlier training bout with a Padawan. The same reddish dirt was clumped into Leo’s dark fur. “They’ve gotten pretty good at it.”

“They have.” Avena’s eyes flicked up to the supplies being prepped for them to take to some of the far farms. “It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

“Considering how hard we had it starting out? Even our hardiest crops were dying.”

Avena brushed past her to take one of the speeders, their fingers brushing for a moment. It was subtle—no one around them would notice but the two of them—but Leo had come to learn that little touch meant so, _so_ much.

“Well? Come on, then!” The Cathar was grinning as she hopped onto one of the speeders revved its engine.

The other woman chuckled and shook her head, climbing onto the other speeder.

One last check that their fuel was topped off and supplies properly tied down, and both Jedi took off.

It was a familiar ride of cliffsides and red sand, passing waterfalls and the library in the distance. Ruins, very little plantlife, the occasional settlers who were out working the tiny farms. Leo threw a grin and joyous laughter over her shoulder at her companion; Avena smiled back and revved her speeder’s engine.

The farthest farms were still a ways off when Avena suddenly shouted.

“Leo! Stop!”

Her speeder hit something— _hard_ —and she was thrown off. She hit the ground and rolled, grimacing and hissing as her clothes and fur were torn, as her tail twisted underneath her, as something in her arm cracked. When Leo looked up, her speeder was hovering above her as Avena held it in place, arms outstretched and shaking from the strain of holding the heavy equipment through the Force. Leo dragged herself back so the other Jedi could drop it where it was.

As soon as it hit the ground, Avena was lunging off her bike. “Leo?!”

“What did I hit..?” She sat up and sucked a sharp breath in through her teeth. Her arm didn’t want to cooperate and oh, _kriff_ , trying to move it hurt.

Both Jedi let their eyes drift to the…body? laying in the sand. Occasionally, one of its limbs would twitch.

Leo narrowed her eyes as she dragged herself to her feet with Avena’s help; the Chiss was still hovering, checking her over for more injuries. “…That looks like a Geonosian.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“And why’s it here?”

“Here. We’ll worry about it in a moment.” Avena tore her cape from where it had been attached at her shoulders and (even if Leo’s tail lashed and she flinched at the touch) carefully bound the Cathar’s broken arm with it. “We’ll have to get you back to the settlement for proper care.”

“Doc can handle it when we get back, but that’s not what I’m worried about…” With her good arm, she drew her lightsaber and approached the body of the…was it really a Geonosian? Avena had one of her own out as she hovered at Leo’s side. “These aren’t supposed to be here.”

“There’s something wrong with it,” Avena repeated as she reached a tentative foot out to nudge it. It twitched again, but was definitely dead considering the shape Leo’s speeder had left its head in.

Tail swishing and ears twitching for any indication of more, Leo put her weapon away. “We need to tell the Old Man.”

“ _I_ need to tell him,” Avena corrected. “ _You_ are going straight to medical.”


	29. Day 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 29: I Think I Need a Doctor  
> Alt Prompt 14: Shot  
> -  
> Warnings: Gunshot Wounds, Character Injury  
> Characters: Ar'eonis'terrinxx (Grand Champion - Chiss), Mako

They’d left Gault and Blizz back at the ship, while Torian had temporarily departed to meet with some old friend of his. That left Mako and Terrin to go planetside—tracking both Zale Barrows and some of the secondary targets they’d accepted since hey, they were going down there anyway, might as well go for the few extra credits, right?

The shot hit her before she’d even realized the target had his blaster drawn. Terrin was sent to one knee as the shot burned through her thigh—through thick leggings (and of course with her luck, the shot had hit her _right_ where her armor ended), through flesh, to leave it blackened and the smell of burned skin heavy in the air.

Mako was the one to take the shot that downed the target—just once of their random contracts—before darting to Terrin’s side.

“That looks pretty bad.”

That earned a snort and crooked grin from the Chiss. “Gimme some kolto, and I’ll be good as new!”

“Girl, I’m starting to think you can’t feel pain.”

“When you play with torches as a kid and burn your arm to hell for it, you’d think a blaster bolt was nothin’, too.”

Her companion just shook her head with an exasperated sigh and roll of the eyes, then outstretched a hand. With Mako’s help, Terrin was able to pull herself to her feet—though she’d admit, putting weight on the leg wasn’t exactly pleasant…

Regardless, she grinned through the pain even as Mako gave her a look.

Well, this would make tracking down Barrows a little more difficult but she’d have to manage.


	30. Day 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 30: Now Where Did That Come From?  
> Prompts Used: Wound Reveal, Ignoring an Injury  
> -  
> Warnings: Permanent Injury, Character Injury, Eye Trauma Mention  
> Characters: Jessi Toklar (Trooper - Human/Zabrak), K'hedif (Smuggler - Sith Pureblood)  
> Background: Jendrush Sept (Voidhound - Cathar), Jeva Toklar (Smuggler - Human/Zabrak)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kitty is a good dad who loves his babies so much and gdi Jess you’re gonna give him a heart attack

Jessi knew, long before she even set foot near the _Star Hopper_ , exactly what was about to go down. She was on temporary leave, face still wrapped while kolto worked its magic on the deep scratches scored through it and her eye.

She couldn’t go too far from base, but asking the right people, a lot of paperwork done and trained troops keeping watch (it was a crew of known smugglers headed by none other than the Voidhound himself, after all), _Hopper_ had been granted clearance to land nearby so she could at least see her family while she was stuck in recovery. She felt fortunate it wasn’t some secret base or whatever so having them nearby was a real possibility; it had been too long since she’d had the chance to see them.

She’d told K’hedif over the holo not to worry, that they had good doctors handling her. _“It’s going to look bad,”_ she’d said. _“Just promise me you won’t freak out?”_

Yeah… That obviously wasn’t happening.

The moment K’hedif came down the ramp (he was fully covered up, helmet and all—the troops who’d accompanied Jessi knew he was a Sith Pureblood, but she knew it was more for his own safety than the comfort of those around him), he was rushing to her side. He cupped her face in his hands and she could about imagine his wide eyes behind that visor.

“Jess! Y… Your eye!”

She could feel his thumb running gently over the bandages and from the corner of her remaining eye spotted Jeva peeking out from behind their father. She gave her sibling a _look—_ Jeva owed her a candy, now. Jessi _knew_ he’d react that way!

“I’m okay, I promise! Just—”

“Okay?” He pressed his hands against his helmet like he couldn’t _believe_ she’d just said that. “You’ve lost an eye! What…”

“I’m a soldier, now. Things like this are going to happen.”

“You’re gonna give your poor dad a heart attack is what’s gonna happen.” Jen was leaning against the ship, just watching it all go down in front of him. After speaking, however, he pushed himself away from it to duck around K’hedif. He brought one fist under Jessi’s chin, guiding her head to one side so he could get a good look at the bandaged side of her face. “What were you even doin’, kid?”

“Besides making me worried sick?” Oh, K’hedif sounded so distraught… She couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for it.

“We were guarding a reconstruction team on Taris—” The name slipped out before she caught herself. Oops…

K’hedif’s shoulders immediately stiffened and she could almost feel the air around her drop a degree or two (was that a Force thing? or was it from imagining the horrified look his helmet hid?). “You were on _Taris?!_ You were… Rakghouls, and—”

One of the troops chuckled, then coughed to hide it when Jessi threw him a glare.

“Dad? Dad!” She grabbed his shoulders and squeezed them before he could make himself panic thinking about what _could_ have happened. “I’m okay. It was a Nexu that did it—not a Rakghoul, so no infection. Okay? It was a Nexu.”

“A…Nexu,” he repeated, nodding slowly and taking a deep breath. “Nexu.” He still thumbed carefully at the bandages, but when Jessi offered him a smile his shoulders relaxed a little.

“I know I worry you, but I promise I’m careful and have a really good team and we all watch out for each other. Okay?” She smiled and kissed the visor on his helmet—it made her feel like a kid again, but now their roles were reversed. Instead of K’hedif kissing her forehead and humming comforting words when the sounds of blasters startled her, it was her turn to comfort him when he was afraid for the little girl he’d raised. “And, ah… I wanted to surprise you, but I’ve been learning field medicine, then I’ll be getting into the more complex stuff. I’m training to be my squad’s medic.”

“Their medic?” She could hear the smile creeping slowly back into his voice.

It was Jen and Jeva to grin wide, however. Her sibling outright laughed and nudged their dad with a pointy elbow, while Jen clapped a hand on his back. “She’s takin’ after her old man!”

Even if smiling too wide stung a bit when it pulled at the scratches, she did so anyway. She couldn’t help it. “Dad, I’ve seen the good you do as _Hopper’s_ medic. I want to do that, too.” It’s why she was training with the up-and-coming Inferno Squad, anyway! It was a squad that would go to worlds in need to protect reconstruction teams, just like the one on Taris. She’d be doing _good_ with Inferno.

“I’m proud of you no matter what you do, but Jess… Please, _please_ don’t scare me like this again.” That said, he dragged her into a hug that she had a feeling she wouldn’t be escaping from anytime soon. Not that she wanted to, of course.

She returned the hug, grinning down at her sibling and Jen who both gave her a thumbs-up probably for successfully calming K’hedif. “I can’t promise that, but I’ll try to be more careful.”


	31. Day 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 31: Today's Special: Torture  
> Alternate Prompt 5: Stoic Whumpees  
> -  
> Spoilers for: Imperial Agent story  
> Warnings: Major Character Injury, Violence, Blood/Gore, Knives, Permanent Injury, Torture*  
> \-----*Poisoning, Cuts (shallow & to bone), Stabbing, Broken Bones, Dismemberment  
> Characters: Rediaex'aere'zortiea (Cipher Nine - Chiss), Unnamed Background Characters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s been a long time since I’ve written torture, but this was fun! sorry, Xaerez   
> -  
> uh...make sure to read the warnings for this one. I might have gone a tad overboard-

His mask had been stripped away—it lay broken, smashed against the wall. With it gone, it hadn’t taken long for him to earn a black eye and split lip; they’d been more annoyed than anything when he’d lifted his head to stare them right in the eyes, unfazed. His jacket was torn to tatters and now lay at his feet in two pieces; protective vest also pulled away and tossed off in a corner.

It left Xaerez in his simple undershirt that already had stains of his own blood—blood that dripped from his mouth, his nose, the cuts already scored across his skin. He didn’t flinch when the electric prod was waved near his face, didn’t twitch when a blade coated in… _something,_ sliced into his bicep. He locked eyes with the man holding the prod—just _daring_ him to use it again—and only grit his teeth and curled his hands into fists when the cut started to sting.

He knew his breaking point.

Unfortunately, so would they and they were having a grand old time taking it slow.

He’d already lost track of the time. The windows were covered so he couldn’t see the time of day, his comm deactivated.

Tied to a chair, eyes scanning the room. His hearing implants were still humming from the last shock to make it difficult to make out what his captors said. It was getting harder to ignore the pain in his arm; stinging had turned to heat, as if a brand were being held to his flesh. It traveled down to his fingers, up through his shoulder, his neck. He sucked in a breath through his teeth. Ignore it. There’s worse to come, he told himself.

Over the course of what had to be an hour—two? more?—they tried other poisons. One numbed his arm, much to their annoyance. The worst of them had him tensing and hissing through his teeth, but he was almost disappointed in how ineffective it still was. They changed it up only when they realized the toxins weren’t going to get them the desired results.

Xaerez wished they’d stuck with the poisons.

With a heavy pipe, they shattered one of his feet—or maybe the ankle? he couldn’t tell, only knew it hurt and he couldn’t move it without pain stabbing through it. He could feel the way the bones were splintered under the skin, threatening to stab through it. It was already bruised and swollen and he dreaded when he’d have to try and walk on it.

Blood ran down the opposite leg—his calf split open, knee to ankle. The blade had cut easily through his pantleg, scraped audibly against bone as it effortlessly tore through flesh and muscle. His breaths were ragged through clenched teeth, eyes squeezed shut, brows scrunched and fingers flexing against their restraints.

Still, he wouldn’t say a word. Wouldn’t beg. Wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of tears or screams—no matter how much it hurt.

There were two vibroknives stabbed into his thigh; a third was in his back, buried under the shoulder blade. Sometimes the one with the scars slashed across his face would twist it to force Xaerez’s arm into a different angle or he’d adjust the blade and pull, leaving the spy gasping and trying to lean with the blade as it felt like he was trying to pry the bone itself out of his back.

“Come on, Cipher…” one of them cooed as he held what Xaerez could only describe as clippers, maybe meant for trimming hedges. They were rusted and made a horrible screeching sound when the jaws snapped together, a screeching that left Xaerez’s implants ringing long after the man stopped playing with the tool. “Just tell us what was in the report.”

Deep breath. One more round. He could handle one more round. One more, and even Hunter would think the information was genuine. Xaerez raised his head to lock eyes with the one with the scarred face.

His responding glare had one of them sneering. “Unbelievable. Stubborn one, aren’t you?”

Xaerez couldn’t say he’d ever wanted to know what getting an extremity cut off felt like. His arms were twisted painfully against the back of the chair and the clippers locked onto one of his hands; he realized long before the sharp edges bit down what was about to happen.

His little finger went first. Rust scraped against his skin and his breath caught when the tool paused—stopped only by bone—and let out a strangled gasp when enough force was used for the tool to finally break through the finger. Even with his implants still humming, it seemed so, _so_ loud… The sound of rusted metal scraping it, the snap of the bone and click of the tool when the edges could meet once more with nothing holding them apart? It was so clear in the dark room.

The second went before he’d even recovered from the first.

The tool locked onto the third, middle, finger.

The knuckle crunched in its jaws, and a cry broke in Xaerez’s throat. It was an ugly sound, as if he were being strangled, and with it the room fell quiet. The only sound was the spy himself—his ragged, pained breathing.

He couldn’t lift his head even when he tried, couldn’t help but groan when he tried to curl his fingers only for severed tendons to pop.

“I—I’ll talk! I’ll talk…”


End file.
